


The Memory of Water

by Sapphicsarah



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: A retelling of both stories but they're gay because I said so, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphicsarah/pseuds/Sapphicsarah
Summary: I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blueAnd it's hey to the starboard, heave-hoLook out lass a mermaid be waiting for youIn mysterious fathoms belowSo cut through the heart, cold and clearStrike for love and strike for fearSee the beauty, sharp and sheerSplit the ice apart!And break the frozen heart
Relationships: Ariel/Elsa (Disney), Ariel/Eric (Disney)
Kudos: 29





	The Memory of Water

_I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue_   
_And it's hey to the starboard, heave-ho_   
_Look out lass a mermaid be waiting for you_   
_In mysterious fathoms below_

Shipwrecks had always been a fascinating place at the bottom of the sea. Although sometimes the ships were lodged on a shelf halfway down, or splintered into pieces, or splattered on the rock and half sunk, forever more dipping in and out with the tides. The wrecks that drifted all the way to the sands in the dark were the best. The treasures were greatest in the nooks and crannies and hidden compartments. Shiny silvers and luminous gold, gadgets and gizmos. Whose-its and whats-its and all sorts of unnamed objects that held untold mysteries. A music box with a tiny princess, spinning round and round. A painting with the cracked face of a woman reaching out towards a flame. 

Ariel always felt as if she was reaching out. Up and up, to the surface where water met air and became salty spray. A whole other world way up there, just out of her reach. 

But the sea was her home, and to leave it was unthinkable. Yet she kept dreaming of her fin turning into feet, and of running and singing as someone called back in a high beautiful voice. She dreamed of dancing and twirling round and round until she was almost sick with the movement and being caught by kind hands that held her steady. She dreamed of mountains rising above the sea, of green forests and mighty trees as tall as the castle at the heart of Atlantica. 

The night of the Prince’s birthday party was a moonlit one. The fireworks glittered all kinds of colours. Fiery red and deep greens, blues and purples, and sparkling glitter that drifted down like a weeping willow into the water. The sea shimmered the reflection of all the colours, and the moonlight intermingled too, until the water itself seemed to shine. 

Then, thunder. Lightning struck from a looming bank of black clouds, and the moon disappeared behind them. One of the sails burst into flame, and the whole ship sank in a matter of minutes. She’d never seen the tragedy before the wreckage, and suddenly felt sad by all the beautiful things in her grotto. 

The prince was beautiful as well, in an otherworldly human kind of way. He was heavy too, but she swam him to shore and hoisted him onto the sands and waited. She’d never been on land before, and when the sun rose the light hit her shoulders and warmed her. The Prince slept until the sun was high in the sky and the sand beneath them grew hot. She sang to him, because that’s what her mother had done when she was poorly. She sang an old song, about love and loss, and the darkest parts of the sea. All the best songs were about love. 

He stirred after three verses, and she quickly left him and watched from afar. He was so beautiful, and she wanted to speak with him, to hear if their voices would match, to see if his was the voice in her dreams. 

Other humans came soon and helped him away from the sea and out of her sight. And for three days, all she could think about was the feeling of her palm cradling his face, and the feeling of sunshine in her hair. 

When the King found out about the trips to the surface, he destroyed all of her treasures. The rescued objects became just like the ships they had once been a part of, shattered and broken and lost. It was the first time Ariel realized there was nothing for her here. The castle was full of the memories of her mother and her father was haunted by the sound of the dead queen’s voice. The chasm between them had grown deep with the years, and she was certain they would never be able to cross it again. Grief changes things in insidious ways, and her father had been kind once, but now his eyes were grim, and he never smiled. The Kingdom did not understand the odd little princess who looked just like her mother, nor did the other princesses seem to care for the reminder that Ariel used to be their mother’s favorite. And so, when the eels slithered past with their glowing eyes and seductive voices she followed and let herself be led to the witch’s lair. 

…

The witch had once been beautiful, or so the stories went. But cruelty and trickery had corrupted her, and now there were tentacles where there once had been a fin, and her face was twisted, and her hands gnarled. Her voice was still dark and deep and harmonious, the last remaining piece of her former self. She called to Ariel from the depths of her cave, and Ariel swam until the darkness swallowed her up. 

A cauldron sat in the middle of the lair, black and filled with seaweed and pebbles, and what looked like a broken starfish. 

She watched, fascinated as the sea witch brewed her a potion and put it in a small glass vial with a stopper. The price of the potion was her voice. 

Ariel paused. 

Was a stranger from a strange land, worth it? He was beautiful and a prince, but her voice? 

The dream of her calling out and another voice singing in return, would it be taken away?

The sea witch changed the rules when she saw the princess’ hesitation. Instead of three days she was given three years to make the prince fall in love with her. But if he married another, on the day after the wedding she would turn into sea foam and would be neither human nor mermaid ever again. 

It was a high price, but she had nowhere to go. 

The sea witch was known for helping the poor, the unfortunate, the desperate. Without a place in Atlantica she was all three, and so she sang her last song, and watched her voice disappear into a nautilus shell. 

…

Walking was painful. It hurt. She wobbled and fell more times than she could count, but eventually she made it three, then four, then five steps without collapsing. 

The prince found her on the beach. He’d been looking for the one who rescued him, had been haunted by a voice singing in an unknown language. His name was Eric, and when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. 

The next time she almost fell he was there to catch her. 

He took her to court, inside the old stone castle and its cavernous halls that seem to go on forever. She was a novelty, a mute woman found on the beach by the prince. There were whispers, and sometimes the whispers were said in her company. Humans seemed to think that since she couldn’t talk she couldn’t hear, but she listened. 

_She must be traumatized, perhaps from a shipwreck._

_She is so beautiful, I wonder where she’s from._

_The prince already seems to be half in love with her._

And it was true, that the prince was kind. Eric was kind. 

He took her dancing in the village square, showed her the market place with all of its spices. She met traders from a place called the desert, and heard music from the far east and tasted food more delicious than she could have ever imagined. She discovered she loved honey and bread, devoured mango from the marketplace, and the bright red tomatoes from the garden. She refused to eat fish. 

She learned to ride horseback and to her it was the nearest thing to flying. They went on rides almost every morning, chasing the sunlight. She wished she could laugh, could shout for joy at the sheer magnitude of feeling as they rode through the glades of the forest. They weaved through the trees, bounding over boulders and fences, and down to the beach where they thundered through the waves and across the sand. Then up and up to the castle, and home. 

Eric gave her a horse on the day that marked a year since she became human, a year since he found her. They named him Max. He was tall and white, with a streak of grey in his mane. He carried her quickly and steadily, and she loved him for it. 

He galloped better than any steed in the kingdom, Eric told her, and she grinned as they raced to the sea. 

Eric took her to the foothills at the edge of his kingdom. He guided her to the highest point in the kingdom, at the top of a small foot hill, and pointed further inland to the plains of the next kingdom. The hills rolled away into farmlands, and rivers snaked their way through the crops and all the way to the sea. To the south there was a kingdom of islands covered with palm trees, and coconuts, and an even warmer climate. There was music there that would make even the grimmest man want to dance. 

To the north there was a kingdom all shut away, filled with magic and mystery. Ariel turned to see. The mountains were purple and blue, vast and sharp with snow at their peaks. Fog skirted the foot of the mountains, and clouds drifted quickly across the sky. A wall of white snow began to fall, as if the mountains were trying to conceal themselves from Ariel’s gaze. 

_It’s beautiful,_ she thought. The whole wide world. 

Eric stood beside her and took her hand in his. She tried not to squeeze too tightly. 

…

The years passed, and soon the time was almost up. She loved him, and she was certain that he loved her too. 

But the kingdom by the sea had little grain, and the harvest had been hard the last few years. The Kingdom of plains was further inland, and was filled to the brim with lush farmlands and rivers. And they had a princess, who was young and beautiful and rich.

  
She arrived on an envoy with offerings that Ariel learned later were a dowry. The carriages were heavy with the grain and wheat, and the people flocked to watch as the long caravan made its way up the long road to the castle. The people loved the princess already and waved as she passed by in the first carriage and called out in a sweet voice that she was glad to meet them. That she had never seen the ocean before, and already loved the smell of sea salt in the wind. 

Men were like the sea, Ariel discovered. Inconstant and tempestuous, and ever changing like the tides. He grew distant as the princess approached, until he was far out of her reach. She watched them dance at a banquet in the foreign princess’ honor, and Ariel leaned against a tapestry of a unicorn and sipped wine until her legs felt unsteady with it. She left the revelry behind and stepped out into the cold night air. She wandered aimlessly down to the beach and took off her court shoes. The sand felt heavenly between her toes and she swallowed a gulp of wine and walked down to where the water was lapping at the shore. 

The waters were calm that night. The moon was low, just peeking out above the horizon. Soon it would set, and the night would be even darker. 

Prince Eric found her and came down to the beach and took his shoes off too. He waded into the sea with her, until the water was up to their knees. He took her hand in his, and she tried not to cry. He was many things, but he was always gentle. 

He had to marry the princess he said.

For the good of the kingdom. 

The people were hungry, and a prince must do what is best for the people. He hopes she understands. 

And she does, but a part of her wished that she was enough. He rested his forehead on hers, and Ariel closed her eyes as the moon disappeared behind the edge of the sea. 

…

The wedding was too loud, too bright, and gaudy and full of people full of wine. The wedding feast was her last meal, and the mangos tasted bitter in her mouth. The rice was warm and sticky, but her heart was broken, and she felt herself drifting as the crowd laughed at another speech. She was in the corner again, watching Eric from a distance. He kept glancing over at her, a worried expression on his face. 

He had set his jaw during the vows and had sounded for all the world like a gentleman and a prince. But Ariel knew his voice better than any sound in the world. And his voice was breaking. Her heart was breaking too, and soon she’d vanish all together. 

The princess was beautiful in her white gown. The train was long, and her veil was pinned back, and she was smiling as she sipped from her golden goblet. But Eric wasn’t looking at his bride. He kept looking at the odd mute woman who had been his companion for nearly three years. As if afraid she would disappear as mysteriously as she had appeared all those years ago. As if he knew that soon she would leap from the wedding barge and become a part of the sea forever. 

The years had flown by, and now all that stretched before her was an eternity of wandering, of drifting aimlessly through the fathoms. An endless journey across the waters. 

She went to the bow where it was quiet and looked into the water. She peered down into the deep and tried to see if she could catch a glimpse of Atlantica. But the water was empty and black, and no merfolk would ever know what had become of her. 

The party raged on until the early hours, and Eric found her, just like he always did. They stood side by side looking to the horizon, and she felt a tear slip down her face. Soon she would be nothing but tears. 

_Where will you go?_ He asked.

He was always asking her questions, even though he had known for years that she could never answer him. He looked at her and smiled sadly as fireworks erupted in the sky. His hand came up to wipe her tear away. She closed her eyes and turned her face to kiss his palm softly, their first and last kiss. He leaned closer, but she shook her head and he stilled. He nodded and turned away from her, disappearing into the crowd at the stern. She stayed in the bow well after the fireworks faded and watched as dawn came over the horizon. 

She climbed over the railing and didn’t look back. 

She leapt.

She was nothing but foam before her feet even touched the water. 

…

She wandered for years. She drifted past old kingdoms, down to the depths where the ruins of cities lay, past dolphins and reefs, and glittering lands with black sands. The currents were kind, and never brought her down to Atlantica. She forgot sometimes that she was once something more than a collection of water. Sometimes her mind was nothing but darkness, especially when the water around her was pitch black, and the only visitors were bottom dwellers and the bones of dead fish as they settled into their final resting place.

She glided along the backs of whales, lingered near baby seals, and followed behind a school of turtles for a time. She went South to the warmer waters but found the sea too crowded. These days she was not one for company, and the southern fishermen sometimes caught her in their nets and yanked her to the surface for a moment. She always dripped back down to the sea, but the feeling was unpleasant. So, she let the current take her north, where the ships were few and far between. 

She went up and down hidden cliffs in the deep, saw narwhals and sea lions, and pods or orcas. She saw a shipwreck half sunk at the edge of a river, and for a moment she felt that old pull. That spark of curiosity to see what treasure lied within the hull. But she had had enough of humanity, and enough of tragedy, and she let the current sweep her north, further and further, until the waters were frigid and empty, and the cold was sharp like a knife. 

The sea here was still, all ice for miles and miles. It was the edge of the world, and there was no better place to rest. So, she wandered into the heart of the glacier, until there was nothing but ice, cold and clear. The beauty was sheer and sharp, and it called to her, like a voice from a long-ago forgotten dream. 

She came to a mighty cavern and stayed, looking up at the stars through the glassy ice. She stayed and was still. Until she was frozen, and all ice too.


End file.
